Chapter Text
Will breathed in deep, chest aching from the now constant haze of toxic air that enveloped Hawkins. It didn’t help that he’d cracked a few ribs earlier in the week, but he’d manage. They always managed. Every inhale was shaky, they were most days. Ever since late March of ‘86, Hawkins stopped being safe. Not that it was ever really safe in the three years before, but now, Will’s hometown was something of a Hellmouth, a wasteland of chaos and decay. Their little corner of Indiana went from sleepy small town to apocalyptic landscape in a matter of weeks. Deep down, in the furthest recesses of his mind, Will somehow felt like this was partially his fault. But no one else knew, no one else accept Henry Creel .
Ever since Will Byers set foot back in Hawkins he could feel him . He could feel the anger, the pain, the hatred collecting like water in a damn in the back of his skull. The thoughts, the emotions–– they were always there, though they didn’t belong to him. Every time Henry’s rage flared, any time he seemed to gain a little more strength, another drop filled the bucket so to speak. Will was terrified that one day, it might overflow, wiping out everything he loved in one fell swoop. Lately though, Henry Creel had been quiet. Will knew better than to feel relieved, if anything, the quiet scared him more.
Though the voice had been absent for a while, Will could still sense him–– he always could, just under the surface, banging on the glass. It seemed like it was only a matter of time before it cracked. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing in pain as he took another breath hoping that counting, inhaling and exhaling, would finally still his mind. He sat under a shoddily boarded up window, waiting. He waited with baited breath for his brother, Nancy, El, and Mike. He’d been assigned as their designated look out while they went on another supply run. Hopper’s stockpile was running low. They were almost out of bullets.
Sitting in the entrance of an abandoned military camp, Will tried not to worry about them. Every time he let himself be anxious or afraid, a piece of Henry found itself wriggling free. He’d taunt him, feeding into all of Will’s fears. Sometimes though, sometimes Vecna would bribe him or try to appeal to his loneliness, to offer something no one else could–– understanding, acceptance. It made Will sick to his stomach, sent shivers down his spine. He had to be strong, stronger than he’d ever been before, and he had to do it in silence. No one could know–– just like no one could know how guilty he felt about the loss of Bob Newby, about all those soldiers who died because of him, about Billy being targeted after him, about being a part of Vecna’s plan. That and the other thing he kept hidden away, the abject shame and disgust he felt for being everything his father feared and hated. Will had plenty of fuel for Henry Creel to use.
The far off sound of metal crunching pulled him out of his ruminating. Right. He was supposed to be on high alert. It was his job to see incoming danger and warn the others. They gave him that role, he accepted it, because he had always been good at hiding. Now he had to hide from monsters, looters, fanatics, and Henry Creel. Easy. Will slowly turned back towards the window behind him, crouching low, rifle resting on his knee. He’d been an okay shot before the world went to shit, even if he hated guns and all they reminded him of. Until he had to take up arms in order to protect the people he loved, guns made him think of Lonnie, of not being good enough, of being abandoned. But now Will was the second best shot behind Nancy. He had to adapt quickly and it shocked everyone, including himself, when he volunteered. He’d do anything if it meant the people he loved were safe.
Another deep breath, another wave of searing pain as he steadied the rifle, looking through the scope between the gaps in the boarded up window. So far, nothing, nothing but a swirling red sky and steadily falling ash. Just like every other goddamn day for the last year. Still, he held the gun tight, ready for whatever might come bounding around corners or out of the shadows. Again, he heard the far off clanging of metal–– rattling, almost like empty cans. But as far as Will could tell, there was nothing out there, nothing but abandoned houses, dead grass, and despair. He clenched his jaw and waited. Nancy, Jonathan, Mike, and El had already been gone for 40 minutes. It felt too long. Will wanted to start worrying, but he knew better. They’re fine. Everything’s fine. They’ve been okay so far. We keep making it somehow. We have each other’s backs. We have El.
The crunching of broken glass and quiet, hurried footsteps trailed down the hall. There was an air of urgency in the movements, quiet panic in the subtle noises that Will could just barely make out. It could be them–– but it could be someone or something else. He clutched the gun even tighter, ready to peer over his shoulder when a figure came into his periphery. Jonathan. He was crouched low to the ground, hands raised in surrender, urging Will to lower the rifle. He moved carefully towards his younger brother, pulling down the bandana covering his mouth. His lips moved, but barely a whisper escaped–– though Will still understood: We have to go.
He nodded, knowing exactly what he had to do. Once again he looked through the scope of his rifle, trying to spot a clear path to sneak out of the building. Something must’ve happened, something must have gone wrong. He swallowed hard as he scanned the parking lot. As far as he could tell, it was deserted. He turned back toward Jonathan, motioning for him to look, to double check his observations. Everything was done in silence, it was too risky to speak in a once government run facility–– too risky in any place once frequented by the public or large groups. They waited for a moment before agreeing to carving out a path, making a safe route for the others when they caught up. Will couldn’t help wondering where they were as he slipped out the door, guiding Jonathan back the way they came.
Instead of making their way to the hole they’d cut in the chain link, Jonathan diverged, darting off in the direction of several abandoned Jeeps. Will’s heart sank into his stomach. They rarely ever drove anywhere, not unless it was utterly dangerous or urgent–– it drew too much attention. Most of the time they made their way on foot or bikes, but for some reason Jonathan was headed for a truck. Something must’ve happened. Will couldn’t worry. He couldn’t dwell on fears that popped up like weeds. Any time he did, he risked welcoming in Henry. As long as he stilled his mind, things were fine–– mostly.
Will backed up, moving quietly in the direction of his brother, all the while gun raised. He glanced at Jonathan from the corner of his eye. He had slipped into one of the tents, rummaging through boxes, discarded bags, and clothes. Will presumed he was looking for keys, a ticket out of here as quickly as possible. Jonathan was frantic, tearing through whatever was left behind, but there was nothing. No signs at all for an easy way out. Will knew now what they had to do. Before all of this went down, none of them truly had the skills it took to survive this hell hole, but they soon learned. Whether it was shooting a gun, picking locks, scavenging, foraging, or hotwiring a car, everyone had had to learn something. Right now those skills would come in handy.
He tried to be aware of their surroundings, alert on all levels. The way Jonathan moved, the look in his eyes, told Will that things had definitely gone south. Jonathan quickly snapped off the radio antenna on one of the trucks and got to work breaking in. They had to hotwire their way out of here it seemed. As his brother worked, Will still saw no sign of the others. It made the sinking feeling worse, the one he tried so desperately to ignore. It sat like lead in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down. He had no choice but to lock the thoughts away. Breathe, Will. Just breathe. He looked back one more time, the low hum of the engine came to life. Jonathan exhaled a sigh of relief, running his hands through his shaggy, ash dusted hair before hopping in the driver’s seat. That was Will’s cue to join him.
They crawled along slowly back to the front of the building, careful not to make too much noise. Will didn’t dare ask Jonathan what happened. They wouldn’t have the luxury of exchanging information until they were safely back at Hopper’s, but that didn’t stem Will’s curiosity. He stood in the backseat, head and shoulders peering through the passenger’s side window, rifle propped and ready like a sniper. Measured breaths, slow and steady, just like Hop showed him. When he breathed slowly it didn’t hurt as much, but the pain was still there. If anything the pain kept him grounded, present. At least it kept Vecna at bay.
Will was hyper aware of Jonathan, still visible in his periphery. He gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles white and jaw set. Will knew his brother well enough to know he was grinding his teeth, trying to tamp down the worry. Jonathan had always been somewhat stoic, but now he was almost impossible to read–– almost . Will knew it was likely for his sake, and El’s. Jonathan was made to grow up too fast, to play dad when he could barely reach the stove. Now he was playing soldier in a war that, by all logic and rules of reality, shouldn’t even be remotely possible.
A new noise pricked at Will’s ears, a far off crackling so faint it was barely there. His eyes darted in its direction. Smoke . Thick black plumes of smoke wafted from the seams of a far off building. Will wasn’t sure if it was accidental or a diversion, but it couldn’t be a good sign. He slunk back into the car a little, just enough to be able to see Jonathan clearly in the side mirror. Flames began to lick up the sides of the brick some five hundred feet off. In the mirror: come on, come on, come on. The fear in Jonathan’s face was barely masked. Now Will could start to acknowledge that things went wrong. But he couldn’t panic, not yet.
They waited for several more minutes, truck idling by the boarded up double doors. Still no sign of their sister, Mike, or Nancy. Will knew Jonathan was so tempted to blare the horn, but that would only make things worse–– so they waited. There were so many things Will wanted to say to his brother, to ask him. He wanted to comfort him, to assure him things would be alright, but he knew that wasn’t a promise he could make. Nothing was alright anymore. Every single one of them was traumatized to all hell, hardly hanging on. Sure, maybe they could’ve left with the mass exodus, but this was their home . This was only the beginning of what Vecna had planned. Will was uncomfortably aware of the world Henry wanted to create and so they had to stay. Life, life, depended on it.
A gasp, a quiet, barely there gasp escaped Jonathan. He knew they weren’t supposed to talk, but Will heard him, hushed and terrified: fuck fuck fuck, goddamn it. There was that ball of lead again, sinking deeper and deeper. Will had been so focused on the stupid fire that he’d neglected the far more urgent location, the boarded up entrance. He quickly whipped his head towards the door, eyes narrowing as he made out a petite girl wriggling through the path they’d carved, slipping between the crack in the blockaded doors. El. She was breathing heavy, eyes wide with horror and anguish as she raised her hands to pry the barrier apart with her mind. One thing Will noticed, blood. El was covered in blood–– not just the typical nose bleeds she sported after using her powers–– no, her entire torso, tops of her thighs, and her hands were smeared with blood. But it wasn’t her’s, she didn’t look injured, just afraid. El Hopper was covered in someone else’s blood.
Will tried not to panic, he tried not to spiral into all of the possible reasons why she was painted with crimson, but he could feel his walls slipping. He watched, rifle raised in anticipation for what came next as she maneuvered her way back through the door. Will swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat as he tried not to assume the worst. He should’ve though, he always should. When he saw El again, she wasn’t alone. Finally, Mike and Nancy. All warmth drained from him however when he saw exactly why Jonathan had been so urgent and on edge, why El looked like she was on the verge of breaking down. Limp, arms draped over Nancy and El’s shoulders was Mike.
Will’s breath hitched, a wave of nausea rising up inside him, bile crawling up his throat. There was Mike, head hung low, barely conscious. His sister and ex-girlfriend struggled to carry him to the Jeep, shifting weight every so often as they tried to hurry along. Nancy’s face resembled Jonathan’s, worried yet steely. She couldn’t break down, not yet. Will studied them, grip going lax around his gun. The blood… It was Mike’s blood. Just like El, Nancy was smeared with red, her hands stained and a streak swiped across her cheek. But Mike? He was bleeding, heavily. He left a trail as they pulled him along, splatters and dots that resembled some fucked up Jackson Pollock painting.
Acting on impulse, pure adrenaline, Will bolted out of the truck. He scrambled to the back passenger’s side, opening the doors as quickly as he could, breaths so heavy he might as well have just run a marathon. Nancy and Eleven finally reached the door, Nancy sliding in first as she hoisted her brother into the back seat. Will quickly assisted El with his feet, body acting without thought. Once he was sure they were all inside, he hopped back into the front and tried not to hyperventilate. With all that blood, they likely had some demogorgons on their tail. They needed to go now .
“Drive! Fucking drive!” Nancy screamed, despite their rule of silence. Tears started to stream down her cheeks as she cradled her little brother.
Jonathan nodded fervently, shifting into gear and taking off faster than Will had ever experienced. Life or death .
“Mike.” Nancy whispered, swiping hair away from his forehead. “You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you help, I promise. Just, just––” She choked on a sob, her tears hitting Will like a tidal wave.
No . His walls were cracking. Seeing Mike, paler than Will thought possible, made the glass cage inside his mind so fucking fragile. He was panicking. After weeks, maybe months, Will was about to fall apart. Blood soaked through Mike’s clothes, slowly creeping across his shirt and jacket, onto his jeans. He coughed, wincing in pain, garbled sounds mingling with slow breaths. His teeth were stained red. He’s bleeding internally, fuck. Will felt scalding, fat tears begin to blind his vision. After all this shit, he couldn’t lose Mike. He just couldn’t. Yeah, Mike Wheeler was his best friend–– but he was more than that. It was something that was so hard to explain, or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just hard to acknowledge and say out loud. Will was in love with him and he couldn’t lose him.
As they drove over bumpy back roads and maneuvered around gaping chasms, Will’s heart pounded in his ears. Time , time moved so slowly. It was painful. It made his chest ache even worse than some busted ribs and toxic air. This ache was emotional, traumatic. He was terrified, utterly distraught as he watched Mike twitch and cough and cry . It made his gut twist every time he heard Nancy reassure him with comforting half-truths, everytime she clamped down pressure over his abdomen. Mike needed a doctor, but Will wasn’t sure how many were left in Hawkins–– if any were left in Hawkins. They needed a fucking miracle.
“Jonathan.” El’s voice was quiet, shaky. “Mike needs to go to a hospital. He is not okay.”
Jonathan eyed her nervously in the rearview.
“I know.”
Will didn’t dare utter a word. He was sure the shock was clear as day–– written all over his face, paralyzing every muscle in his body. His brother sounded frustrated, frantically going over all of their options. Since the world went to shit, Jonathan had gotten pretty good at patching them up–– cleaning wounds, stitching cuts. But this? This was beyond anything Jonathan Byers could do. If they didn’t get Mike help soon, they were fucked.
“Jon,” Will felt like his throat was coated in gravel. “go past the old steelworks.”
“What? Will… are you fucking crazy? The military is there and El–”
“I'll be fine. Mike needs help.” Tears streamed down her face.
Will believed her. He believed she’d be fine. She didn’t look like the escaped test subject they’d been hunting anymore. Her hair had grown out some, curly though still on the short side. She looked more mature, more severe–– they all did. But if they stayed quiet, if they let Nancy do the talking, things might just work out. They had to.
“Only if you’re absolutely sure.” Jonathan sounded authoritative. He’d since lost much of his softness. Sometimes it pained Will to acknowledge, though he had too.
“I am sure.”
With the assurance that El was willing to take the risk, Jonathan headed towards where the military had relocated. Once, they’d been in central Hawkins, in the prime position to aid its residents. But the party, Joyce, Hopper, Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, and Steve all knew better. Once shit hit the fan they got the hell out. Now their base camp was on the outskirts, sending in troops every once in a while to keep the small town cordoned. Nothing leaves, nothing enters without their approval. All Will could hope is that they had a doctor, one that was willing to help and forgo any questions. His mind was racing, terrified of all the “what ifs” that might cost him his best friend, the boy he so desperately needed. Today was not supposed to go this way. It was supposed to be in and out. What the hell happened?
After a series of sharp turns and swerving to avoid cracks and debris, a military encampment came into sight. Surrounded by barbed wire and shipping containers, it was hard to see beyond the blockade. Will swallowed hard, a cold sweat dampening his skin, just at the nape of his neck. Fuck. He wasn’t sure if it was his body’s natural reaction, a physical response to trauma and triggers, or if it was Vecna. Either way, it made him deeply unsettled. He wouldn’t let himself dwell on it though. He had Mike to worry about. Mike needed him. Will had to be strong, be present. But the sight of Mike, barely clinging to consciousness, growing paler by the minute, and still bleeding made Will feel like he was trapped in one of Henry’s fucked up mind games.
Every once in a while, when Will wasn’t careful, he would dream. They weren’t pleasant, they weren’t simply strange, they were horrifying. His mind would become Vecna’s playground and while Will slept, Henry would toy with him by showing him all the things he feared. What was happening right now, with Mike, seemed like just the sadistic brand of torture the evil that used to be a man enjoyed. He’d show Will all sorts of heinous things; his family dying gruesome deaths, his friends being slaughtered, Mike dying. He also showed Will much less violent things, though they were just as twisted. He’d make him live through his earliest memories, the volatile environment, the abuse . He forced Will to listen to hate filled rants from his father, face rejection from everyone he loved because of who he was, to endure his best friend calling him a disgusting freak. So yeah… this could very well be one of those dreams.
Jonathan came to a stop, tires screeching as the car tilted on its wheels. Everyone braced themselves, trying to remain steady in the ever escalating chaos. As soon as they were no longer in motion, Nancy went into action. She looked at Will with pleading eyes, begging him to look after Mike as she prepared herself to implore the military to help her brother. Will nodded, swallowing hard as he pushed down the all encompassing urge to throw up. He climbed over the gear shift into the backseat with El as Nancy rushed out of the truck, hands raised. She needed to be as non threatening as possible, Mike’s fate depended on their supplication to military protocol–– any sign of hostility or resistance to the rules and they risked being turned away or worse.
Nancy’s lungs burned, as she trudged forward. Adrenaline and fear pumped through her veins. How the fuck do I explain this to mom? She panted, heavy breaths mingling with sobs she now let escape. Her body shook as she approached the barrier, eyes darting to the guns trained on her. She was living in her worst nightmare. Everything Vecna had shown her was coming true. He showed me Mike dying . She wouldn’t let the vision come to pass, her brother needed to make it.
“Stop.” A deep, stern voice commanded.
Of course, Nancy complied. She stood incredibly still, hands up and eyes trained on the line of soldiers above.
“You are entering a military zone, miss. Civilians aren’t permitted to be here.” Heavy boots licked pavement. “I have to ask you to leave.”
She took an uncertain breath, lip quivering before meeting the officer’s eyes. She wore her devastation plainly.
“Please…” She could hardly manage a whisper. “Please. My brother, he––”
The officer regarded her carefully, noting her eyes flicking back towards the jeep–– one of their own.
“Where did you acquire that vehicle, miss?”
Nancy could hardly believe that was this asshole’s concern at the moment. She knew how distraught she looked, how terrified she felt. Anger rose within her, but she needed to douse those flames before they flickered.
“W-we found it, sir.”
“You found it?” He quirked a brow suspiciously.
“Yes, sir. We found it abandoned.” She swallowed hard.
“Where?”
“Sir, please, my brother–– he needs help. We had to–– we needed a way to find him help.” She was sobbing again. She couldn’t control the waves of emotion, but she hoped her anguish helped her case.
He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’m sorry, but––”
“No!” Nancy didn’t care if she was disrespecting the officer. Mike needed her. “My brother is fucking bleeding out! He needs a doctor. Please–– I can’t lose anyone else.” Her voice dropped at the end as she thought about Barb, Billy, Heather, and Eddie. Too many young people gone far too soon.
The soldier looked taken aback, but his face softened after a moment. He nodded before motioning for her to lead the way.
Will’s breath hitched. He felt like his heart might stop at any second, it only got worse when Mike started shivering. That’s not good. He choked out a half sob, trying not to fall apart as he held his best friend close. He gripped Mike’s hand in his, squeezing it so tight his fingers began to ache. Mike was fading, but much to Will’s surprise, he squeezed back–– albeit weak.
“Will?” He whispered, voice strained.
“I’m here, Mike. I’m right here.”
Mike coughed, wincing in pain, tears streaming down his face.
“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay!” Will’s vision blurred with tears.
“Why are you lying, Will? You know that’s not true, that’s not something you can guarantee.” Will’s eyes went wide with horror and for a second he forgot how to breathe. The voice was distant, like a shitty radio signal fading in and out. He knew that voice, he felt shame and guilt over the reality. Will was a liar. He couldn’t promise Mike anything and that voice–– that voice haunted him. But it was still his own, mostly. There was something there, seeping through like a forgotten memory. The radio signal was overlapping, two stations competing for dominance. One voice was his, the other Henry.
Will scrunched his eyes shut, trying to visualize something happy, something that might make all of this go away. You’re not here, you’re not here, you’re not here. He finally exhaled, focusing on the grip Mike still had on his hand. Mike’s smile. Will thought of his best friend laughing, thought of that stupid smug smirk he wore when he knew he could get away with something. He thought of that soft smile that Mike saved just for him. It filled his chest with warmth, it made his pulse slow. Something happy. Now his mind was quiet, nothing but the sounds of El crying and Jonathan’s nervous drumming. He was still safe. Maybe he was just imagining things.
After several moments of clinging to Mike for dear life, the door swung open. Will glanced behind him, Nancy’s pale, now stoic face greeting him and El. Behind her was an officer, he seemed slightly disgruntled until he caught Mike in his sights.
“Jesus.” The man’s expression dropped.
“Can you help him?” Will didn’t know where he found the words.
“Yeah, yeah kid. We can help your friend.”
The officer nodded vigorously before running back towards the base yelling “Medic! We need a medic over here. ”
The wave of relief that washed over the van was palpable. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but help was coming. Mike might just be okay.
After that, everything seemed to happen so fast. Mike was ripped away from Will’s arms, carried off behind the blockade. Will felt entirely numb, like he wasn’t really here. He looked down at his hands, now stained with his best friend's blood and began sobbing. He finally let himself cry. Once again, an overwhelming urge to throw up flooded over him. Will felt incredibly dizzy and clammy, the world spun in slow motion as he hopped out of the truck and began retching violently, throwing up what little contents he had in his stomach. It only served to deepen the ache in his ribs. Despite how empty he felt, he dry heaved until there was absolutely nothing left. He was exhausted.
He felt a gentle hand come to rest on his back, rubbing small circles as he tried to compose himself. He was doubled over, eyes trained on the ground, but he still knew it was El. He reached around to place his hand over hers and squeeze it. He had no idea how much he needed the comfort. It was obvious she did too.
“They will help him.” She guided Will to sit on the ground beside her. “Mike will be okay.”
Will could hear the uncertainty in her voice. He simply nodded, unsure of what to say. It didn’t help that his throat now burned, all he could do was stare in the direction where the soldiers had taken Mike. He’ll be okay.
They waited for hours. Will knew it was hours because his watch was always on time–– the one Mike gave him. They had the same one, a gift from several Christmases ago. He was surprised it still fit his wrist. Time ticked on so slowly, every moment felt like torture as they waited for news. El was now asleep, head resting in his lap. He carded his fingers through her hair, combing it lazily in an effort to soothe both of them, but still he was far away. All he could think about was how he couldn’t live without Mike Wheeler. As long as there was Will, there had to be Mike. It’s just the way things were–– even if things had been distant at times. They needed each other. Mike might not know the extent of Will’s love for him, but that didn’t matter, as long as he knew he was loved at all.
Nancy paced nervously, unable to sit still. Jonathan had watched her for a while, unsure of what to say or do. He wanted to comfort her, but he was afraid he might say the wrong thing, afraid of hurting her. He didn’t want to admit that he was struggling to believe Mike would make it. Eventually He pulled himself together, pushing himself off the wall and gently grabbing Nancy’s wrist. He looked at her, eyes awash with sadness and fear. They simply regarded each other for a moment before he pulled her in close, enveloping her in his arms. He pressed a kiss into her hair and sighed.
“Nancy…”
He could feel her crying. Whatever she saw back at the abandoned base, he’d missed it. All he saw was the aftermath.
“What happened back there, Nance? What the fuck even happened?”
She continued to shake in his arms, trying to compose herself. Finally, Nancy managed to take a deep breath and meet Jonathan’s gaze.
“I– I don’t know.” She laughed, distraught. “Everything was fine. Everything was fine until it wasn’t.”
All Jonathan could do was hold her. His gaze wandered, eyes landing on Will. He knew his brother was listening, he knew he was panicking and desperate to know the truth, too.
“I don’t understand…”
“It should’ve been like every other goddamn run, Jonathan. There was nothing there… we checked–– we made sure things were clear. I never ever let him go off by himself, you know that. We were so careful. It’s like… somehow–– somehow Henry just knew. ”
Will’s heart sunk into his stomach. He felt sick again. Henry knew. What the fuck does that mean? His breath hitched as he tried to focus on Nancy’s words.
“Nance?” Jonathan rubbed her shoulder.
“I don’t know how else to explain it, there isn’t another explanation. There was nothing there, Jonathan! Nothing at all and then Mike–– He just went down. He was screaming and I had no idea why and there wasn’t anything fucking there.”
Will was way past panicking now. He was drowning. His lungs burned, he needed to escape, he needed to wake up. He took a deep breath and slowly slid out from under El, his feet carrying him, his mind completely elsewhere. He found himself wandering, searching for a place to hide, to lose it completely. Eventually he found himself in a bathroom, fluorescent lights flickering with ominous familiarity as he locked himself inside a stall. He sank to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and began to hyperventilate. This isn’t happening, this isn’t fucking happening. He closed his eyes and screamed, throat on fire, lungs still burning. This had to be a nightmare. But when he opened his eyes he knew everything was all too real.
The lights flickered again, strobing between light and darkness, until finally the world plunged into dull blue and Will knew. His walls were breached. He could feel vines slither past him, though they didn’t touch him. He could feel the cold, the pain . He wanted to cry, to scream, to run away, but he was frozen. Everything had gone wrong today.
“There you are, Will. I wondered where you were hiding. I’ve been waiting for you.”
No.
“We both knew it was only a matter of time. I hope you liked the gift I left for you. I know just how special Michael is to you, how precious his pathetic life is. It was only natural that his pain would lead you to me, Will.”
Mike… Mike might die because of him. It was Will’s fault that his best friend’s life hung on by a thread. All this time, Will was so focused on hiding that he failed to see the world around him, he failed to see the dangers. Now it seemed so obvious… Will’s fear, his pain–– that was what drew Henry in, that is how he found him. But Will hadn’t considered that someone else’s pain, someone he loved , might just break him enough to invite in the evil. In this moment, Will Byers wished he was dead. He wished he’d been left for dead in the Upside Down so that all of the people he loved could live. Will tried not to seem weak, but it was useless, Vecna already knew everything about him–– all of his secrets. He had nowhere to hide. The world was about to fall apart and it was all Will Byers’ fault. No matter what happened though, Mike Wheeler had to live. That was the only thing Will could be sure of. Mike had to make it.